


Crow On A Wire

by rosydoky



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Idols, Angst, Best Friends, Fool's Gold, Friends With Benefits, Heartbreak, Idol Seungkwan, M/M, Makeup Artist Hansol, Minor Jeon Wonwoo/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi, Minor Lee Seokmin | DK/Yoon Jeonghan, One-Sided Relationship, Pining, Songfic, booseoksoon, but there's mentions of them being fwb, okay there's nothing explicit here bc that just isn't it for me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 23:08:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15896013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosydoky/pseuds/rosydoky
Summary: “And I knew that you turn it on for everyone you met,But I don't regret,Falling for you”Hansol’s hands are tied and he’s not sure he’s ready to break the rope that binds them just yet.





	Crow On A Wire

**Author's Note:**

> okay this is… more angsty than anything I’ve ever written AND i’m leaving it without a happy ending. who have i become? WHO???  
> that being said, this is part 1 of a 2 part series and there will be a happy ending, please be patient with our boys, these things take time.  
> also sorry vernon for everything i just put u thru love u baby kith kith gonna give u the happiness u deserve don’t u worry ur pretty little mind!  
> find me on twitter: @boolesbian

Standing in front of his makeup kit, Hansol usually feels a sense of relief he’s learned over the years. His hands ache to dip into the first pigment, to start his work with the medium he loves so much. He yearns for it, misses it even when he’s only had a day long break. For the last six years he’s wielded makeup brushes like his magic wand, trained diligently in his art and worked hard to build himself up. He takes pride in the mark he’s made for himself, he lives and breathes for his career, it’s become his home. 

Today he stands in front of his kit and feels a sense of dread deep in his stomach, what he would’ve called unfamiliar months before but now knows all too well. 

He should be happy, he’s aware of that. He works for a fairly popular company,  _ Pledis _ , and his current clients are doing more than well, in fact, they’re taking the world by storm. He should be happy, because their fans praise his careful work, even if most of them don’t know his name. He sees the comments thanking him for picking the right foundation shade for Seokmin, or for giving Soonyoung a sexy smokey eye that make his grey contacts even more entrancing. 

He sees the hundreds of comments admiring Seungkwan’s perfectly shaped lips, always glossy and perfectly-peachy in the middle,  the perfect pout for Jeju’s Prince. He’s not proud to say he’s thought about messing them up on purpose once or twice -- of course he never goes through with it, but the thought still crosses his mind. 

 

Seungkwan, his current problem, his everlasting muse. He can’t exactly recount when it started, but a small voice inside his head tells him he’s been doomed from the moment they met. 

Boo Seungkwan floated into Chwe Hansol’s life as if he had always meant to be there, with his warm laugh and caffeine dependency and soft, warm, hands. He danced circles into Hansol’s heart within minutes of knowing each other, asking with wide-eyed, genuine wonder what every product was meant for when he first sat in the makeup chair. 

He had just debuted back then, part of a trio called BooSeokSoon, a group Pledis hadn’t actually invested very much time or money in, scraps of trainees who didn’t make it into their other, bigger groups. 

And that’s how Hansol ended up being their makeup artist, because he was young, less experienced, and therefore a cheaper option. The way he saw it, barely eighteen and working for an established company, no matter the pay, was good enough for him to make his start in the community. 

The way Seungkwan saw it, they were just leftovers of greater things, and God, was he determined to become a greater thing. 

Hansol had admired his passion from day one, it burned beneath his skin and sparkled in his eyes, a quiet chant of,  _ “I will show everyone what I’m capable of, I will be someone.” _

Seungkwan sat on his chair that first day and ranted as Hansol worked, going on and on about how hard he was going to work, how hard his two teammates were going to work. He had looked up to Hansol with his shining, star filled eyes and said, “Hansol, I know we just met, but I’m going to make  _ you  _ proud someday. I promise you.” 

 

Four years later, and he had more than surpassed his promise. Pledis quickly found out that they had just grouped together three of their most lovable, talented trainees, and they immediately focused on scheduling them for more events, more comebacks, more concerts. There were countless awards and achievements, enough to get to their heads, but Seungkwan remained the same, a constant buzz of wanting to do better, work harder, do more for everyone. 

“Hansol,” Chan peeked his head through the curtain separating the small studio space from the dressing rooms, “who do you want first?” 

He just shrugged in answer, not looking away from his supplies meticulously spread out in front of him, “whoever is finished with hair first, I guess.” 

Chan nodded, calling for Seokmin over his shoulder before giving Hansol a small smile and ducking back behind the curtains. Probably off to finish someone’s hair, Seungkwan  _ had  _ just got his freshly dyed, this would be the debut of the new color, the bright berry shade sure to be a shock to his fans. 

Hansol shook the thoughts of the other boy out of his head once again, but the cloudiness remained. 

Seokmin chatted nervously as Hansol worked, he was always nervous before music shows, especially the firsts for each comeback. Hansol just smiled and nodded along to his endless small talk, laughing when he needed to and only adding on if he absolutely had to. He liked Seokmin, quite a bit actually, it was hard not to, especially after spending four years around him, but even his contagious smile and positive outlook on life couldn’t snap Hansol out of his melodramatic dread. 

Melodramatic, that was the word he had been searching for all day. Overemotional, overthinking, hypercritical. He was becoming his own demise, no one else was to blame as much as he wanted them to be. 

He wanted to blame Seungkwan for something, anything, but there was nothing. His hands were clean and Hansol’s were tied, and that’s just the way it had been for years. 

 

The first time Hansol hung out with Seungkwan outside of work was only three months after their first meeting. He didn’t usually like to befriend his clients more than he had to, he had a reputation to build, and he wanted more than anything to be taken seriously in a world where he had to work twice as hard to make that happen. 

But Seungkwan drew him in, wrapped himself around his heart like the warm hug Hansol had been needing. They formed a strong bond from the get go, quickly becoming best friends despite their vast differences. Hansol didn’t even realize he loved him back then, not in the way he knew he did now. He sometimes wonders if things would be different if he had, he tries not to dwell on this. 

The dorm Seungkwan shared with Soonyoung and Seokmin was modest, nothing like what his fans would probably expect an idol to live like. One bedroom with a bunk bed and another, smaller bed off to the side, a tiny kitchen and living area, and an even tinier bathroom. Nothing about the place was glamorous, but it was warm and inviting on that cold January evening, and the first thing Hansol smelled when he walked in was the scent of Seungkwan’s laundry detergent. He decided he liked the place quite a lot the moment he stepped through the doorway. 

“Sorry for the mess,” Seungkwan sighed, frowning apologetically at Hansol, “you know, three young boys in one small dorm, not exactly the cleanest situation.”

Hansol just shrugged, the clutter made the small space feel cozier somehow. 

“I don’t mind.” 

 

“So why do you do makeup?” Seungkwan asked, swirling around the contents of his third glass of wine, the alcohol giving a deep flush permanent residency on his full cheeks. 

“Why do you sing?” Hansol giggled, because maybe he was just as many glasses in, and he had never been a lightweight by any means, but Seungkwan was intoxicating by his own right, and Hansol was blushing just as hard. He never let it slip that alcohol didn’t turn his face red. 

Seungkwan hummed, shaking his head with a small smile on his face, “because I love it, of course.” 

“Well there’s your answer,” Hansol smiled over his glass, “I love it, therefore, I do it.” 

“Smart kid,” Seungkwan sighed wistfully, “so why don’t you wear makeup, then? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything more than a - what’s that stuff called? B cream?” 

“BB cream,” Hansol laughed, his heart swelling just a little too much at the thought of Seungkwan trying his hardest to remember what he had taught him, “I don’t do makeup on myself because that’s no fun. I’m not inspired by my face, I see it everyday. I’m inspired by other people, figuring out what’s going to look good on  _ them.  _ It’s like finishing a crossword puzzle, there’s something strangely satisfying about finding out what techniques work best on every individual face. It’s always something new.” 

Seungkwan looked at him thoughtfully, his eyes filled with something Hansol couldn’t quite decipher. He tilted his head and smiled, leaning into Hansol’s face a little closer.

“Do my makeup,” Seungkwan whispered, “like, right now.”

“Now?” Hansol snorted, “it’s past midnight, your skin is going to hate you.” 

Seungkwan shrugged, rising from his spot next to Hansol on the beat up couch, disappearing into his shared bedroom for just a moment. 

He came back out with the small kit Hansol had prepared for each of them, mostly made for them to practice doing their own touch ups when Hansol was too busy. Partially made just because Seungkwan begged for his own supplies, so of course Hansol finally gave in last Christmas. 

“Do I inspire you?” Seungkwan asked, sitting on the coffee table in front of him and setting the cosmetic bag in Hansol’s lap, staring at him with an intense gaze.

_ More than anyone I’ve ever known.  _

“Everyone does, in their own ways,” Hansol breathed, “I’m inspired by everything.” 

Seungkwan seemed to consider this, as if trying to decide if his answer was acceptable. He finally nodded, his lips pursed slightly as he motioned for Hansol to begin his work. 

The low light casted by the glow of a shitty lamp wasn’t exactly ideal for Hansol to work with, but he was quickly finding that saying no to Seungkwan was getting increasingly hard, so he opened the bag anyways, starting his work. 

“What made you start?” Seungkwan asked, his eyes falling shut as Hansol began to carefully apply primer to his skin. He smiled under his gentle touch, he had once told Hansol that he found getting his makeup done relaxing. So maybe he took extra care with every touch since his confession, just incase. 

“It was an accident, really,” Hansol said, “Sofia needed her makeup done for one of her recitals, and my mom was out of town, and my dad forgot to ask our neighbor, so that left it up to either him or me.”

“We did a test run the night before,” Hansol continued, fond memories flooding back to him, “my parents are both artists, but I was notoriously bad at art. We tried everything, sketching, painting, sculpting, even graphic design. I took a  _ glass blowing _ class one summer. We really thought I didn’t have an artistic bone in my body.” 

Seungkwan giggled, scrunching up his nose, “you’re good at music, you could’ve been a musician.”

Hansol shrugged, “maybe, in another life. Anyways, we did a test run. My dad went first, considering he’s the artist, so we just expected it to come more naturally to him. It was awful, like, the black swan just went through a horrible breakup, awful.” 

“Then it was my turn,” Hansol sighed, “and I really didn’t think I’d be able to do it, we thought poor Sofia was going to show up at her dance studio looking like a mess. But then, something really, and this is going to sound so silly, but something really  _ magical  _ happened. That’s the only way I can describe it.” 

“That’s not silly,” Seungkwan shook his head, “you work magic everyday, have you seen how hot you make me look?”

“Shut up,” Hansol groaned, flicking Seungkwan’s forehead gently, “you look hot before the makeup.” 

If Seungkwan blushed beneath his foundation, Hansol wouldn’t have been able to tell. 

“Anyways,” he said again, “I sat in front of her and suddenly, things made sense. All the time I spent in front of blank canvases had been such a waste. I never knew what to do with all the empty space, it always felt incomplete even when I covered every inch with paint. When I do makeup, I’m given these boundaries, y’know?”

“But the boundaries are what make the possibilities feel endless. I look at a face and I see a million different things I could do in a million different ways. There’s always a new spark with makeup, a new muse. I think I would get tired staring at the same canvas all the time.” 

Seungkwan’s eyes flew open, surprising Hansol as he pulled back his hand that was applying blush to the apples of his cheeks.

“Does that mean you’ll get tired of me, then?” he asked, his voice quiet and leaking with uncertainty that Hansol had never heard before, “I mean, if you work with the same people long enough, don’t you think they’ll start to become like one of those canvases? Won’t you run out of ideas?” 

Hansol stared at him for a beat, tilting his head and searching for an answer. He couldn’t say what he wanted to, couldn’t say that he could never get tired of Boo Seungkwan, not even if he spent every single day staring at his face. He could never tire of the way he carefully worked around the moles that blessed his skin, careful not to veil them. He could never tire of his signature pout, the one that made him want to drag his thumb across his lips, the one that made him want to lean in and kiss him, despite what that might mean for their relationship.

Hansol realized in that moment that he was indeed falling in love with Boo Seungkwan. 

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.” 

 

Soonyoung isn’t as talkative as he usually is as he sits in the chair in front of Hansol, which just adds flames to the fire of worry burning beneath Hansol’s feet. He wants to ask what’s wrong, but the words fail to leave his mouth. 

“Wonwoo and I have a friend,” Soonyoung finally says, and it sounds casual enough but Hansol already knows what's to come. 

“You don’t have to set me up with anyone,” he sighs, and he feels like he accidentally wants to stab Soonyoung in the eye with mascara, but he doesn’t. He has more restraint than that. 

“She’s really sweet,” Soonyoung continues, because he has excellent selective hearing and mascara mishaps are common enough that Hansol could get away with it, and he’s starting to believe that restraint is for wimps anyways. 

“I’m not interested, Soonyoung,” he says firmly, and he knows the conversation isn’t over but he hopes it is anyways.

“You’re tearing yourself apart, Hansol,” Soonyoung says, and his warm hand on Hansol’s wrist just reminds him of Seungkwan.  _ Seungkwan, Seungkwan, Seungkwan.  _ He’s starting to feel like he’s under a curse, and he wonders what he’s done that’s so bad for him to deserve this. 

“Why do you care so much?” Hansol murmurs, because there’s nothing else for him to say and he’s feeling rather sulky. 

Soonyoung rolls his eyes at this, of course, clicking his tongue and glaring at Hansol in a way that reminds him of his mother. The thought nearly makes him smile, nearly. 

“I care because we’re friends.  _ Both _ of you are my close friends, and your pining is just as bad as his knack for being absolutely oblivious, and you’re making yourself miserable by not saying anything,” Soonyoung tsks, and as hard as he’s trying to sound annoyed, Hansol can hear the genuine concern in his voice. 

“And how is some girl going to help the situation,” Hansol snorts, and he doesn't mean to sound so hostile, but it comes out angry and bitter anyways. 

“Well, it’ll get you out of bed with him-” 

“We’re done!” Hansol exclaims, spinning Soonyoung’s chair around quickly, “makeup is finished, tell Seungkwan to come in.” 

Soonyoung’s shoulders slump, and Hansol does feel bad because he knows his friend his frowning with concern, but at least if he can’t see him, he can pretend it’s not happening. So he closes his eyes as Soonyoung leaves the room wordlessly, and everything disappears, if only for a second. 

In the brief moment of solitude, Hansol can breathe. He doesn’t like talking about what he has with Seungkwan, because there’s not much to say.  _ Friends with benefits _ , emphasis on the  _ friends, _ less emphasis on the  _ benefits _ he’s starting to discover. 

Neither of them had meant for it to happen, but of course, things just lead to other things, and Hansol was to blame once again. He started it all with a dumb kiss at midnight on New Years, the glistening of champagne on Seungkwan’s lips too tempting for him to say no to his desires any longer. 

Seungkwan seemed to enjoy it just as much, and that’s how it started. With a stupid kiss that should’ve been romantic, but really was just the start of the downfall of the wall Hansol had built when he realized he was falling in love. So much for restraint. 

Seungkwan was adamant on keeping things casual, and Hansol was a good enough actor to convince Seungkwan they were on the same page. He was able to convince himself it was worth it if it meant he got to kiss him one more time, be close to him for just a bit longer. Plus, he was hormonal and young, and Seungkwan was too, so it just made sense. 

That didn’t stop him from being jealous, however.

The part of him that still had common sense told him repeatedly that he had no right to be jealous, that he and Seungkwan were just friends. If Seungkwan flirted with the waiter at dinner, he didn’t have the right to be mad. That was just how the other boy was, constantly turning himself up to maximum volume, his dazzling smile always ready to entertain the room. 

The other part of Hansol wished Seungkwan would settle on just entertaining him for once, settle on loving him. 

It was unfair of him, it was selfish and cold and he knew he shouldn’t expect Seungkwan to just decide Hansol was his soulmate overnight. He knew Seungkwan thrived off of praise, he just wished he could be enough for him. 

“Hi, Sol!” Seungkwan says as if on cue, his smaller frame practically bouncing into the chair in front of him as he smiled brightly, “like my new hair?” 

Hansol nodded, offering the best smile he could as his thoughts still flooded his mind, his heart racing just the same as it had every time he was around Seungkwan, even after all these years. 

“Ah, not even going to compliment me?” Seungkwan pouts, crossing his arms, “what kind of best friend are you, Hansol?” 

Hansol nearly replies with something a little too snarky, a little too honest, but he has some will power left in him somehow so he just shrugs in apology. 

“Just not feeling well today, sorry Seungkwan,” he says quietly, starting his work on Seungkwan’s face, and suddenly he wishes he was no longer inspired by his beautiful features. But at this point, Hansol isn’t sure he knew what art was until Boo Seungkwan sat in his makeup chair. 

“You should rest after the show then,” Seungkwan says, and his voice is the gentle, caring one that makes Hansol’s head spin. Mostly because he isn’t sure if he uses it for everyone, but he really wants to believe it’s reserved just for him. 

“But we have plans,” Hansol practically whispers, and he hopes that he just seems enthralled with his work. 

“I can just hang out with Mingyu and Minghao,” Seungkwan shrugs, “third wheeling with them isn’t too bad, they aren’t all over each other like Seokmin and Jeonghan, and they aren’t constantly bickering like Soonyoung and Wonwoo. I can probably get Chan to come along too, if I play my cards right…” 

Seungkwan trails off, going on about his plans to trick Chan to come out with him and their stylists. Hansol’s blood boils because he’s just been written off in a matter of seconds, without second thought or care, and maybe he is finding something to blame Seungkwan for. 

“I can still hang out, you know,” Hansol says, and he knows his tone is telling of how hurt he feels, but at this point he’s starting not to care. 

Seungkwan opens one eye, his brows furrowed in confusion, “okay? You just said you feel sick, so you should probably get some rest. Did I say something that upset you?” 

“We had plans, Seungkwan,” Hansol snips, “and it’s like you don’t even care, like you were burning to cancel them anyways.”

“Hold on,” Seungkwan shakes his head, using his hands to wave away the brushes Hansol has in his face, “where is all this coming from? I’m lost here.” 

“It’s nothing,” Hansol sighs, because he doesn’t even know where to begin, and he’s already tired of arguing before the fight even begins, “let’s just finish your makeup, I need a nap.” 

“We’re not done with this conversation,” Seungkwan shakes his head again, “I would make you continue right now if we weren’t on a time crunch. But we aren’t done here, okay?”

Hansol nods, and Seungkwan believes him, and he doesn’t even realize that Hansol has been done for quite a while now. 

Falling in love with Boo Seungkwan was too easy, too dangerous of a game, and Hansol knew now that he would always be on the losing team. He knew what he had to do, even if it meant breaking his own heart in half for the sake of them both. 

Seungkwan quietly leaves the room once Hansol is finished, leaving him to pack up his things in solitude once again. They don’t even say goodbye to each other, but he figures it’s easier that way, anyways. 

Later that night, as Seungkwan sings his heart out on stage, impressive and captivating as always, Hansol leaves South Korea for the first time in four years. He leaves with a quick goodbye to Chan, and a note left to his boss saying he’s earned some vacation time. He leaves with only one thing on his mind, in hopes that when he returns he’ll be cured of whatever curse Boo Seungkwan has ailed him with. 

He leaves everything behind, because he doesn’t think he could pick up a makeup brush even if he tried. 


End file.
